Hide & Seek
by MadHatter2708
Summary: Too many girls are getting caught up in David's fatal game of cat and mouse. Someone has to stop him. And fast.
1. Chapter 1: Nameless

_A/N I haven't written anything in like six months, so this might not be that great. Thought I'd give this idea a go, and I have no idea on where it's going yet, so let me know if you have any suggestions. I hope you enjoy it._

_"How surely are the dead beyond death. Death is what the living carry with them. A state of dread, like some uncanny foretaste of a bitter memory. But the dead do not remember and nothingness is not a curse. Far from it."_

CORMAC MCCARTHY, _Suttree_

"_Fear not death, for the sooner we die, the longer we shall be immortal."_

Hide & Seek

She crouched in the darkness. Her once yellow t-shirt rode up on her waist, exposing pale, sallow skin. Sweat trickled down her neck and her hair stuck uncomfortably against her skin. She longed to wipe away the droplets but her tightly bound wrists prevented any such action. She didn't move. She didn't dare: she couldn't see a thing. Melted make-up was running into her eyes, obscuring her vision. She blinked with some difficulty and waited. Waited for it all to come swimming back to her, the reason she was here, how she had gotten here. So far, nothing.

Tears threatened to spill but this only resolved her to blink harder. She couldn't breath as it was, with tape stuck firmly over her mouth. She'd surely suffocate if she cried. Gradually, and to her overwhelming relief, her sight returned as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom which shrouded her apparent prison. The room was void of any furniture, with the exception of the thin, damp mattress she was currently occupying.

A humorless laugh escaped her lips as she considered her predicament; death would either come from suffocation or pneumonia. Death by mattress - how glamorous. The wall to her left was patterned by some sort of dark-rimmed shape, that may once have resembled flowers but had long since bled into a dark flurry. A small window allowed a small portion of moonlight to filter into the room and she was thankful for the small comfort it provided. As she travelled its length, she knew why her mind had subconsciously blocked it out, the moonlight drew attention to the wall furthest from her sight and she strained to make out the small Polaroids littering its face.

Cloudy-eyed and slack-jawed faces looked back at her. She recoiled, all the faces had one thing in common. They all stared out, unseeing. They were all dead.  
><em>Was she to end up like them? A nameless face, on a random wall, unloved and unwanted, forgotten.<em> Fear swallowed her up and she opened her mouth to scream, forgetting her earlier thoughts of suffocation. _Who were these women? Why was she here? What sort of sick person did this? Why did they do this? Why? Why? Why?_  
>Maybe it was her luck, maybe it was her misfortune, but in any case she heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in a lock. <em>They would kill her, just like all the others, no reason, no rhyme. <em>

The door. She hadn't noticed it before, but it must have been how she had gotten in here. She stared at it, hoping to regain some sort of recognition from it, some sort of clue as to how she was here. It didn't help; her eyes only hurt more as they focused on the dark space.

She choked on her sobs, as a figure pushed the door aside carelessly, stepping over the threshold and standing still for a moment to appraise her. He clicked his teeth, but in irritation or approval, she didn't know. She assumed them to be a man, judging by their stature and build. He moved confidently but slowly, deftly avoiding walking through the stream of moonlight, instead moving to her through the longer route.

A rough hand pulled the tape from her mouth and she sobbed freely, no longer hindered. He waited patiently for her cries to subside, whistling tunelessly, at ease with the situation.

Once her heart had calmed to as still as it would get tonight, he produced a knife from his pocket, his eyes on hers the entire time. Her breath hitched and she squeezed her eyes shut, her mind chanting, _die, just like all the others, die. She would surely die, just like all the others, nothing special. _

He did not, to her surprise, slit her throat. Instead, he reached down to her wrists and sliced to the knot, thus releasing her hands. She stared up at him, unable to distinguish his features, as he was careful to remain in the shadows. Try as she might, she couldn't remember his profile, his face meant nothing to her. _So why had he targeted her? Why had he let her go? So many unanswered questions._

He stood, calmly brushing the dirt from his clothes. For the first time since entering the room, he spoke. At least, she figured he was. She could see his lips moving but she couldn't hear anything. Scared he would hurt her if he thought she was ignoring him, she leaned closer, listening with increasing desperation. Realising she was unable to hear him, he leant down to whisper into her ear:

_"Now you hide."_ She looked up into his eyes, fear coursing through her veins once again. He allowed a smile to cross his features, and as his lips pulled back, she could have sworn his teeth glinted, _"and I seek."_


	2. Chapter 2: Alone

_A/N Well, I've been bitten by the writing bug again, so yeah, here's a quick update. I don't actually really know how an investigation works, I'm only going by books that I've read. So sorry if I've got things inaccurate. Oh and I forgot the usual disclaimer before: as you might have guessed, I do not own a thing of the original. Hopefully that keeps disclaimer hounds happy. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter too._

Lucy Carson awoke with a start. Her cell phone was bleeping noisily at her. She groggily blinked and sat up, reaching across the bedside table to grab her phone. It vibrated irritatingly, demanding her to take the call. She glanced at the caller ID, shocked awake when she realised it was her superior, DI Seddon.  
>Her mind focused now, she jabbed the answer button. Seddon's deep voice reverted into her ear, "Carson! What took you so damn long?" She bit back her retort, glancing at her clock to see the time as three a.m. That was why she hadn't answered immediately. Didn't he sleep?<p>

She said none of these things: "Sorry sir, didn't hear the phone." He snorted but let it go; "Get your ass down to the station now. There's been another murder." Seddon didn't wait for a response and ended the call. Lucy sat still for a moment, absorbing this. Santa Carla had always been full of murders, this wasn't uncommon. The actual murders were though. They were targeting children, young girls, babies to her. The public wouldn't abide with that. Anyone under eighteen was a no-no and they were already blaming the police for not catching this foul murderer. The newspapers were having a field-day, the headlines screaming out those terrible warnings, _Killer strikes again! No one safe! Drained of life!_ They had even nicknamed the murderer "the leech," due to word getting out about the state of all the bodies. Not one of them had a drop of blood left in them. It was unexplainable and she was willing to bet this new girl would be no different. There had never been a case like this in her five years of working for the bureau.

She dressed mechanically, already trying to piece together the clues. All the murder victims were the same - around seventeen years old, white skinned with blonde hair. Privately Lucy thought the murderer was more than likely to be of the same age as the girls but her co-workers hadn't agreed. The injuries on the victims, they argued, could only have been caused by a grown man: bones had been shattered. Plus it looked as though many of the girls had struggled and the murderer would need to have possessed some strength to kill them.  
>Grabbing her bag, she moved to her bedroom door and paused for a moment to look back. <em>She was twenty-five years old and what did she have to show for it? Nothing but a sparse house and an unrelenting work schedule.<em> Lucy was, as the saying goes, married to her work. Her bedroom had a cold feeling to it, as though she wouldn't be returning. She wondered if she was going mad - all week she'd been feeling nostalgic and desperate to get out. Maybe it was time to move on from here. Satisfied she'd managed to come up with a possible solution, she closed the door shut behind her.

Her front door had been left open over night and a chill crept down her back, she never forgot to lock it. _Never_.  
>Her clock bleeped as if to remind her she was on a tight schedule. <em>Shoot, she better get a move on. <em>  
>Deciding to put down her forgetfulness as a result of tiredness, she took her keys and got out of the house, careful to lock the door behind her. She loved the morning air - so clean and fresh. <em>Goodness knows she would need it, once she had seen the body. It was the same every time, that awful charred smell, combined with the sickening scent of disinfectant on skin.<em> Climbing into her car, she still felt a sense of foreboding and although she laughed at her unfounded fears, she still locked the car doors.  
>Her radio came to life without warning, and some old 50's song blared out. Her heart clenched for a second at the unexpected sound then she forced herself to relax and slowly twiddled the dial to reduce the volume. <em>She was being silly. It was only music. <em>  
>Not daring to look back at the house, she put the car into drive and left, eager to get some company. <em>She really ought to get a dog or something, anything other than being in that old, creepy house alone. <em>

* * *

><p><em>Only she wasn't alone.<em>

_David watched the car pull away with a smirk. Humans really were stupid. He had waltzed right in here. As if a lock would keep him out, he could come and go whenever he pleased. She had no say in it. He bent and took the photo from her dresser - she was a pretty woman, but not young enough. Pity, he thought, I would have loved to have added her to my collection. He tore the photo in half, keeping one end and placing the other side on her bed, face-down. Maybe he would make an exception for her.  
><em>

_T__he answer machine clicked to life, "Lucy? Lucy? Carson! Pick up! There's been a development - all the bodies, they all have one thing in common! Bite marks. Only we can't identify the animal...call me when you can." The annoying beep sounded to indicate the end of the message.  
><em>

_Lucy was it? Dear old Lucy was getting in his way. It was dangerous to get in his way. So they had finally noticed the signature of his work? It was about time.  
>He thought of his last girl. She had been such fun - fast, but not fast enough. None of them ever were. Her blood had been so good, tainted with fear. She had begged for her life. They always did. As if he'd show mercy. They all had to die.<br>_

_It was all part of the game._


	3. Chapter 3: Bitten

_A/N I have this and the next chapter already written, and I was going to wait to post it but I might not get a chance for a while, so I'll just do it now. I also might alter this a little later._

_She had locked the door, hadn't she?_ Lucy was beginning to wonder if she was plagued with the beginnings of OCD. _Great, that's just what she needed_. Sighing, she pulled her sweater tighter around her body, it was old and it scratched a bit, but it was warm. The warbly, tuneless song continued to play and she found it grating on her nerves.

Eventually, after repeatedly reducing the volume, she chose to switch it off altogether.  
>Something wasn't right. Had she locked the door? Should she check? No. <em>No. <em>And even if it was unlocked, it's not like she had anything worth stealing. Right?_ Right_. Determined to leave it alone, she continued along the road. Unfortunately, as she concentrated on remembering if the door had been locked, a deer stopped in the middle of the road. Lucy yelped, and instinctively swerved to avoid it. The car spun out of control and she pushed on the brakes as hard as she could. It came to a stop, facing the opposite direction. _Thank god she had remembered to fasten that bloody seatbelt.  
><em>

For a moment, she closed her eyes. Years ago, her mother had been in a similar accident, however, she hadn't survived it. Lucy could still remember hearing that her mother was dead. _It happened quickly_, they told her, _she hadn't suffered. _As if that was some sort of consolation for losing her mother. She blinked hard, irritated she was giving that a thought right now. Lucy had more pressing things to worry about, such as preventing more murders. She was wasting time.

Once she had calmed down, she looked back up the road. The stag was looking at her, with a mixture of hostility and curiosity. Sighing, she moved to get out the car. She wouldn't be able to move until it did. But, once the door was open and she was on the road, the stag was no where in sight. Confused, she walked a few steps down, however there wasn't a trace of it. Turning back, she got into her car and made it to the office, shaken but unharmed.

The office was a fairly old building, and was showing quite a few signs of wear. The window down by the cellar had a crack in it, and she made a mental note to bring that up with the technician. It was an old oak door at the front, and it weighed a tonne. Lucy had often joked of building up her arm muscles simply through opening that door a couple of times a day.

She walked into the foyer, glancing up at the clock. 4.30 a.m. Somehow she knew Seddon wouldn't be happy.  
>And as she crossed the hall, sure enough, Seddon was visibly irritated by her late arrival, "Carson, I told you to hurry. What part of hurry don't you understand?"<p>

Seddon was a large man, who had, to put it nicely, let himself go. His hair was greying and thinning, his skin taking on a rather scarlet tone. However, at times like this, this only added to his reputation to frighten small children. But Lucy was not a small child and more than a match for him.

Resisting the urge to snap at him, she chose to let it go, "Sorry, I had some car trouble."  
>Abruptly, the redness splashed across his cheek receded as he calmed, "Ah, here she is." Seddon smiled, "White will take you."<p>

Lucy looked behind her, and sure enough, White was walking towards her, dressed in her usual uniform of a white lab coat and dark trousers. She couldn't help but think that the white stuck out horribly in the examination room, next to the sallow skin of the dead.

"Yes Sir." Lucy followed White into the examination room. Sarah White, Whitey to her friends, was their local pathologist. She pulled out a box of latex gloves and proceeded to pull on the left handed one. Lucy watched; "any distinguishing marks on the body?"

Sarah nodded, "Paul called you earlier, did you get his message?"  
>"No, what was it about?"<p>

"The victim...she has some...unusual wounds." Sarah paused, then pulled on her right glove, "It'll be easier just to show you." She walked around to the body's left side and lifted the sheet off her carefully, peeling it down to the girl's waist.

Lucy looked down at her. She was like all the other poor girls, bruised, cut and starved. Her once beautiful face was marred by a series of criss-crossing cuts, inflicted with a surgeon's precision. And, perhaps more interestingly, her skin was eerily pale, even more so than expected from a corpse. They suspected she had been drained dry of her blood, for whatever reason. Sarah slid the girl's hair out from under her neck. Lucy noted that her hair, like the rest of her, was coated in blood.

Then she saw what Sarah had meant. The victim sported two, bullet-like wounds in her throat. They looked like bites. But what sort of animal had teeth like that?  
>"Have you sent samples to the lab yet?"<p>

Sarah nodded, "We don't have matching results." She hesitated, as if unsure if she should say it, "this is something we have never encountered."

Lucy looked up from her notes, "so it's a rare species, right?"

"Well...maybe. But I think it's something else." She squirmed uncomfortably.

"What is it, Whitey?"

"Nothing." Sarah pulled off her gloves, busying herself, "and that's not everything. She has a bat tattooed on her right thigh."

Lucy chose to ignore Sarah's strange behavior.  
>"So...he branded her?"<p>

Sarah paused, "Well...we've gone over the other bodies again. They all have similar marks."

"How could you have missed that?" Annoyed, Lucy paced, "This could be vital to the investigation."

Cringing, Sarah looked away, "I was careless." She chose not to argue about the fact of the tattoos being tiny - she still ought to have noticed.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Lucy strove to calm down; "In other words then, he's keeping a trace on each of the girls."

"Either that or he's letting us or someone else know something."

The smell was starting to get to Lucy, "Is there anything else?"  
>"Well...yes. Lucy...I.."<p>

Becoming impatient, Lucy snapped, "What, White?"

Swallowing hard, she answered with deliberate slowness, "My grandmother used to tell me stories. Vampire stories."


	4. Chapter 4: Playing

_She ran as fast as she could. Her feet pounded the earth in rhythm with her heart beat. He would catch her. She was certain of it._

_"Come on, Sunshine. Don't you want to play?" His velvety voice whispered to her, caressing her ear. She wanted to scream, shout, ask for help. But no one would hear her. _

_He had opened the door and waited for her to leave. With the knife hanging threateningly over her head, she had complied without a murmur. Her legs had hurt from being forced into that unnatural position but she hadn't dared protest. She didn't have a hope in hell in this condition. She had hated him at that moment. It had boiled her blood and she had wanted to scream at him. He had looked at her in delight, as though she had spoken her thoughts aloud._

_She would run. She would try. She didn't have a choice._

_They both had known she wouldn't be making it out of this alive._

* * *

><p>"Vampires?" Lucy snorted, "I don't have time to listen to your fairy stories."<p>

Sarah blushed, "But _look _Lucy. Really look."

"I looked, White. It was an animal, okay? And if you go around spreading this nonsense, I'll see you kicked off the case. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." There was a defiant note to Sarah's voice, which Lucy easily picked up on.

"Cover her up. And don't breath a word about this to anyone."

Mutinous, Sarah did as she was asked and silently slipped from the room. Lucy stared after her, _vampires? And I thought I was the one going nuts. Maybe there's something in the water around here._

_Who was this madman? Why was he letting them find the bodies so easily?_ She glanced over the report, this girl had been found behind a bench on the boardwalk. The murderer had not taken great pains to hide her. The coronor suggested she had been dead for around ten hours before she had been discovered. Lucy did not envy the young couple who had found her, after a nice romantic stroll.

The worst thing was that no one had reported any missing teenagers. _Where was this girl's parents? Didn't they care? _

_Evidently not. Perhaps this was how the "leech," as the media called him, had chosen his victims. Carefully choosing those who would not be missed. It was plausible. It wasn't unheard of, that's for sure._

She spared another glance for the girl. _She was so young, only 17 and already her life was over. So easily snuffed out._

* * *

><p><em>Easily snuffed out was David's exact thoughts, as he crouched beside the broken body of his latest victim. She hadn't provided him with much of a challenge, and he was disappointed. It was the thrill of the chase he loved. <em>

_He thought she had had such potential. He was always careful to pick his victims himself. _

_The other boys didn't understand him. He didn't blame them. He didn't always understand himself._

_Her blood hadn't been very satisfying either. He ought to have gotten her drunk or something. At least then their blood held some sort of allure._

_Pushing her onto her back, he examined his artwork. He was careful to bite in the exact same position on each of his meals, the place where the blood pounded hardest. Reaching for his knife, he carved into her face neatly, recreating the same wounds as always. _

_He rearranged her clothes to give her some scrap of modesty, even in death. He felt no desire for this empty shell of a girl, he never had. They all thought they were special. They all thought they'd be the one to break the infamous David. No. They had it wrong. He always broke them. Quite literally._

_He found his mind turning to the cop. What was her name? Lucy. Lovely Lucy. He longed to take her next. But no. At least, not yet. That would ruin his ritual. He would wait. He was very good at waiting. _

_He always won the game. It was his game and he knew the rules. _

_The question was, did Lucy?_


	5. Chapter 5: Goodbye

_A/N Nothing really happens here, it's more about discovering details of the victims lives and Lucy's character. I am struggling to decide the time frame of this, so I'm sorry if it seems inaccurate in terms of timelines. It's short too, but I wanted to end it this way. Next chapter I intend to bring in another one of the vampires. Hope you enjoy!_

Seddon was waiting for her when she left the examination room; "Carson, the victim's belongings are over there. See what you can find." He gestured to a cardboard box, sitting on Lucy's desk.

She nodded absently, thinking about what Sarah had said earlier, and went to sit at her desk. The box appeared to be half empty, and sure enough, when she put her hand in to pull something out, all she could feel was a leather purse. Taking it out, she scanned it. Nothing special, it looked like any other purse. Unclasping it, the contents were a little more interesting. Firstly, a video store membership card - Max's Videos. Lucy would have a little talk with the owner - after all, he might have seen her recently. The card also had her name: Tanya Phelps. Born July 19th. Lucy glanced at the calender, and, as she had thought, it was the 19th. Tanya had died on her birthday. Just as she began to withdraw her hand, she felt the unmistakeable edge of crumpled paper. She pulled it out and smoothed it. It was stained with tears and had clearly been stuffed away in a hurry. Lucy hesitated, then began to read:

_Tanya,_

_I pray this letter reaches you in good health. As you know, I came to Santa Carla a few weeks ago to speak with you, but you would not see me. I was disappointed but could not blame you. I would have done the same. I lost the privileges of your good graces a long time and I have only myself to blame. I am thankful for this oppurtunity to say a few words._

_Where do I begin?_

_I have known great sorrow since you left. Your sister, Louise, died from heart complications one year ago today. She missed you so much. I was not able to fill your shoes and I would not have wanted to. She may have been my daughter but she never saw me as her father and it was rightly so, I was not the father I should have been. Your brother, James, joined the forces in 1985 and was killed in 1986. I never got to see his body. I do not know if you had children, Tanya, but if you do, I pray God looks after them and spares you the grief I have known. I still dream of them. I still dream of my dead children._

_I dream of you too, Tanya. I remember when I taught you to swim and we played with the sand on the beach. I miss reading to you and teaching you to cook. Do you remember? You were always a good daughter and I was undeserving. Regret...I have oceons of regret when I think of you. I regret turning you away, that day you came to see me. I regret I did not let you in and make you my daughter. I made you stay with your mother in that foul hut. And for what? For fear of losing face? For staining my so-called good name? It all seems to matter so little now. Maybe this is the punishment for the heartless._

_Death is near for me. I will not burden you with the details but I feel the stirrings of the end. A weak heart they say. It is a fitting end, I think, a weak heart for a weak man._

_I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me and allow me to speak with you in person. If not, I hope you live a long and prosperous life. You deserve it, Tanya. You deserve it. _

_Goodbye, my daughter._

_Your perpetually underserving father,_

_Edward _

Lucy found her eyes hurting, as she fought the tears. It was hard this job, it was really hard. And, like Tanya, she had no one to cry on.


End file.
